On March 9, 1831, King Louis-Philippe of France signed into existence the French Foreign Legion.  Many of us have seen old cartoons or black and white movies about the Legion—men in khaki with a white cap (kepi) and hanging kerchief covering the neck, especially in the desert campaigns.  They were considered "romantic adventurers" by the public.    Actually, they were all misfits:  refugees, illegal aliens, ex-convicts, down-and-out loners with nothing left to live for, and all from other countries, at least nominally.  While the majority were Swiss, German, Czech, Irish, Canadian, American, Algerian, and other nationalities, some were Frenchmen who listed themselves as Swiss or Belgian or Luxembourgers in order to gain admittance.  They got away with it because enlisting under an assumed name was required.  Their passports were confiscated to reduce desertion because Legion training was notoriously brutal, even cruel.  But gradually, over many years, the Legion became the most elite military unit in the world.
            Though it might be labeled "French," it was actually an army of mercenaries that could be hired by other countries.  It's most celebrated battle came on April 30, 1863, and not because they won.  62 legionnaires fought against several hundred Mexican soldiers in the Battle of Camerone.  At the end of the day, only five remained alive.  Even though they were offered a chance to surrender by an impressed, almost saddened, foe, they refused, and those last five died too, still fighting with sticks and anything else they could get their hands on because they had long before run out of ammunition.  That battle is still celebrated annually, a great source of pride for the Legion.
            The slogan for the French Foreign Legion is, "The Legion is our country."  That makes a lot of sense.  None of them were French, at least on paper, and many other countries were represented.  How much unity, how much loyalty to one another and the mission, would exist if all kept claiming their own separate nationality?  No, you could not be a Legionnaire unless you were loyal to the Legion and the Legion only.  This motto was repeated to the point that all would yell it out at the least provocation.  "The Legion is our country!"
            What country are you loyal to?  Paul tells us, But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ (Phil 3:20).  Certainly that did not mean that his Roman citizenship meant nothing to him.  He used it often to help him as he preached, to take advantage of the rights it gave him, not for his own selfish aims, but so he could continue to spread the word and accomplish the will of God.  He was never one to claim his rights for any sort of personal agenda and, in fact, would give them up for the sake of the gospel whenever it was needed.
            In the last several years, I have begun to wonder if we truly understand where we belong and to whom.  So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God (Eph 2:19).  The context there is the unification of Jew and Gentile in the kingdom, a divide that came close to ruining that early institution when one group insisted that the other needed to become one of their own race or they were not welcome.  Haven't we learned the lesson yet, after 2000 years?  Or does Paul need to come teach us as he did them?  Unity, Jesus prayed in the garden, would show the world who we are.  I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, ​that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me (John 17:20-21).  He was praying for us that night--"those who will believe in me through their word"—so we could understand the need for unity, for solidarity, for loyalty to the kingdom of God above all others.
            Learn it those early brothers and sisters did, and found the strength for their own Battle of Camerone in the Roman Coliseum and elsewhere through the centuries.  If we can't learn the lesson, I fear we will surrender to the enemy sooner or later instead of resisting to death.  If we won't preach the whole Truth from our pulpits out of fear, then where do we truly count our citizenship?
           The French Foreign Legion understood this, and so they instituted their slogan.  The Devil understands it too, and he will make you think your earthly country, indeed, your earthly existence, is the one that matters most.  Don't listen to him.  Heaven is our country.  The Kingdom of God is our country.  That is where our loyalty should lie, no matter what it costs.
 
These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city (Heb 11:13-16).
 
Dene Ward

On a recent camping trip, we had one full day of rain.  Twenty-three hours in a tent went faster than we had expected since we had taken books to read, crossword puzzles to do, and a Boggle game.  But at supper time we needed more room and a table to cook on, so we carried our food and our propane stove under the shelter of an umbrella through the steady drizzle and down to the pavilion in that State Park to prepare our meal. 
            A nine year old girl pulled her bike into the shelter as the rain picked up.  She talked for a few minutes, and then we asked her name.
            “Grace,” she replied.
            “”Hmmm,” began Keith, “that means full of mercy and compassion.  Is that you?”
            She gave a wry grin beyond her years and said, “I don’t think so.”
            We talked awhile longer, and then she politely excused herself.  Later I thought, “How incredibly honest.”  Could I look at myself and give such an assessment without making qualifications and rationalizations?  I doubt it.  And woe to anyone who tries to do it for me.  No grace to him!
            But here is the irony—as an innocent child, this little girl Grace is a whole lot closer to the ideal of grace than I am.  Yet as a child of the God who gives grace abundantly, I must strive the harder to emulate my Heavenly Father, giving grace to all I meet just as He does for us—even though, as the very definition of the word states, we do not deserve it. 
Today let us all remember to be as generous as our Father, giving grace where none is due.
 
By grace are you saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. Eph 2:8
 
Above all things be fervent in your love among yourselves, for love covers a multitude of sins…minister among yourselves as good stewards of the grace of God. I Pet 4:8, 10

Today's post is by guest writer, Keith Ward.

During Dene’s major eye surgeries (2005-2008), I realized she would not be able to stand much light, reading would be limited and TV boring.  I had just read an article about attracting birds, so I built a 4’ long trough between 2 boards (total width one foot) on posts just a foot from the window by her recliner.  The birds began coming: counting those passing through, we have fed over 30 different kinds of birds (she has a category of devotionals on the sidebar, “Birds & Animals”).  It is not unusual to count 20+ cardinals at once around 5pm—“the cardinal hour”.  Suddenly they are all gone!  We see a couple of doves, a catbird or two, maybe, and a cardinal in a whole day.  No titmice, no wrens, no chickadees.  This has never happened before.  Of course, with spring we get some travelers, the dozens of sparrows migrate away and “our” (generations have been hatched here) cardinals come less frequently, but never such a total absence of birds.  No, there have been no signs of predators or predation. 

But this made me think a bit, I think the Bible calls it meditation, all the beautiful things we have are evidences of God’s grace and love.  We live in a world of sin and have become so accustomed to it that we do not comprehend its ugliness.  One man did.

Jesus, holy one of God who left purity and wonder beyond imagination to walk through a cesspool for over 30 years said more about hell than all the rest of the Bible.  These are the descriptions of punishments that make us begin to understand how awful sin must appear to God (and what a sacrifice it was for Jesus to even live as a man).  They are contradictory and exorbitant because they are figures of speech to convey the inexpressible.  “Unquenchable fire,” “Outer darkness,” “their worm dieth not.” At a loss for words to convey the horror more clearly, Jesus said that it would be better to tear out your own eyeball than to go there.  God is just.  These describe the wrath of God that Jesus saved us from.  God is just and such a destiny is the fair end for those who sin.  We had best distance ourselves from sin.

But, in this life, brambles, thorns, sickness, cancer, are all the results of God’s curse on the world for Adam’s sin and “because all sinned” (Rom 5:12).  Should we consider the “exceeding sinfulness of sin” we would wonder why there are any flowers, beautiful birds, colors, music, tastes, beauties anywhere.  A sin cursed world should be bleak, ugly-only and nasty. 

But, God gives us birdsong, flowers and fragrances, sounds and tastes that delight the senses, scenery that awes the soul.  Why?  He loves us.  These are signs of his grace to reveal his character.  “And so, because we have sinned, there is ugliness, but because God is good, there is beauty and wonder.
 
If God can leave such grace and wonder in our sin cursed world, truly, “How Beautiful Heaven Must Be.” When God so loved that he gave his only begotten son, can you imagine what it must be like to be where that love is, and is forever? 
 
Therefore, as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin; and so death passed unto all men, for that all sinned…But not as the trespass, so also is the free gift. For if by the trespass of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God, and the gift by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abound unto the many (Rom 5:12,15).

Keith Ward

Cutworms are ugly, fat, brown worms that can wreak havoc overnight in a garden.  They rise to the surface, wrap themselves around the tender stems of new plants, and cut them off at ground level.  In the morning you find plant after plant, cut off and lying on the ground, shriveling in the new dawn.
            Gardeners espouse various cures for cutworms.  Some place plastic or foil collars around the stems from just above ground level to several inches below.  Others insert nails, Popsicle sticks or toothpicks in the ground, one on either side of each stem.  We generally just pick up a pile of twigs from the yard and poke them down next to the stems.  All these cures work because they keep the worms from being able to surround the stem and cut it down.  At least with our way, you don’t have to walk the garden removing things that either won’t degrade or might be dangerous.  Just ask my son Nathan about toothpicks and bare feet.
            These cures work for souls as well.  People who face the trials and cares of life alone, without any support or encouragement, might as well have Satan wrap them up in his arms.  They are that vulnerable.  As vigilant soldiers of Christ we should be on the lookout during times when we find ourselves alone.  Are you the only one at school who even claims to be a Christian?  The only one at work?  The only one in your neighborhood?  Make sure you are not too proud to recognize moments of weakness and ask someone for help.  Be willing to seek companionship when you need it.  In fact, be willing to run for it!
            And to those who are never alone, who are blessed enough to have a Christian mate or to work in a Christian atmosphere, pay attention to those around you who are not.  Find the singles, the widows, the ones who have been left by unfaithful spouses, and be the someone who stands next to her so the devil cannot wrap her up and cut her down.  We are too often so involved in our own families that we do not look for or make time for the lonely souls who need us.  They are always the “fifth wheel,” not a couple, and so they are ignored because they don’t fit in.  It is our job to fit them in.
            Look around you today and find a loner.  Don’t let anyone lose his soul because you didn’t even think to wrap him up in your encouraging arms and let him know that he is not alone.
 
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow.  But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him -- a threefold cord is not quickly broken, Eccl 4:9-12.
 
Dene Ward

Does anyone besides me remember Romper Room?  Romper Room was a program designed for preschoolers to teach them the elements of courtesy and character.  I was confused about it growing up.  It seemed that the "Romper Room" I watched was filmed in Orlando, where I lived for a few of my earliest years, but at the same time it was a syndicated program.  How could that be?    
            The show was actually an idea that was franchised across the country.  So yes, I was seeing a local version, but there were many others and they were exactly alike.  And if none was available in your area, you saw the syndicated version.
            Miss Nancy was the first hostess of the syndicated version.  I believe that my own hostess was also a Miss Nancy, but perhaps that was part of the franchise.  I am not really sure.  The part I remember most were the "bees."  There were "Do-bees" and "Don't-bees," all stated by someone in a giant bumblebee outfit.  He would always remind the children, "Do be kind," or "Don't be a tattletale," or any of several other characteristics.
            At the end of the show, Miss Nancy would pick up "the Magic Mirror," an empty frame, actually, and look through it, reciting along with the children, "Romper bomper stomper boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me do. Magic Mirror, tell me today. Did all my friends have fun at play?"  Then she would call out children's names as if she were seeing them through the mirror.  That original Miss Nancy finally passed away on April 26, 1997, three years after the show ended its 41 year run.
            I must have been channeling Miss Nancy when I thought up the title of this essay.  We’ve been studying faith lately in our weekly women’s class.  Part of that study involved looking up every passage we could find that contained the word, then categorizing the verses into some sort of sensible outline.  One of the categories we called “acts” of faith, all the verbs associated with the word. 
            That also had me looking up the original Greek word.  I have said before and constantly remind the class that I am not a Greek scholar.  I have enough trouble with English.  Yet looking at a Greek word can instantly bring another English word to mind and give you some insight into the word.  Here are some of the things we found.
            2 Cor 5:7 says “we walk by faith not by sight.”  That word is peripateo and you should instantly think of the word “peripatetic.”  Someone who is peripatetic is a pacer, constantly moving back and forth, usually talking at the same time.  Think ADHD and you have the picture.  We aren’t to be just strolling on this faithful walk of ours.
            Gal 5:6 mentions “faith working through love.”  The word for “working” is energeo.  That brings to mind the English words “energy” and “energetic.”  This is not a lethargic faith that simply assents to a belief, but one that works because of that belief.
            Paul says we are to be “striving for the faith” in Phil 1:27.  That word is sunathleo.  Don’t you see the word “athlete” there?  We are supposed to be working at it the way an athlete works out—hard enough to raise a sweat.
            “Fight the good fight of faith,” Paul says in 1 Tim 6:12.  “Fight” is agon and if you don’t see the word “agony” there, you simply won’t see anything.  Then there is this, which I have gleaned from years of crossword puzzles—an agon was the fight between two gladiators in the coliseum, a public fight, usually to the death.  Are you publicly fighting for your faith, and fighting so hard that you often find yourself in agony from the sheer effort you are putting forth, understanding that it could very well mean spiritual life or death?
            We found several other passages as well, all of them strong active words.  None of them had anything to do with mental assent, with saying, “I believe,” and thinking that would do.  Even such simple things as “Ask in faith,” took on a new meaning when we discovered that the word is often translated “beg” or “plead.”  This is not a casual request.
            No one should ever need to ask if you are a believer.  It should be evident every minute of your life.  They should see it in your service to others (Phil 2:17), in your morality (Phil 1:27), in your love (Eph 6:23), in your confidence (Heb 10:22).  Believers do work and they work hard.  Lazy people need not apply.
 
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:8-10
 
Dene Ward
 

The bugle call "Taps" was written by Gen. Daniel Butterfield to replace another bugle call that the US Army used at the end of the day.  It was first played by Private Oliver Willcox Norton of the 83rd Pennsylvania Regiment.  Before long it spread throughout the army and even into the Confederate Army who heard it being played across the battlefields.  It is now most associated with military funerals.
            Gen. Butterfield was a businessman from New York State whose father founded American Express.  He formed a militia in New York and at the start of the Civil War reported to Washington for service and was appointed an officer.  He had a natural tendency to organize and without anyone asking him to do so, wrote a manual on camp and outpost duty for the infantry.  The manual eventually reached Gen. George McClellan and on April 23, 1862, it was "adopted for the governance of the army."
            It was after that, in the summer, that Gen Butterfield wrote "Taps," and that is where we will hang our hats this morning.
            We don’t travel a lot, but when we do we try to find a group of brethren who share our faith.  Most people call this looking for a “sound church.”  After several unsettling experiences with so-called “sound churches” on the road, I started studying the phrase.  Guess what?  You won’t find it anywhere in the Bible, not in any of the nine translations I checked.
            I have already mentioned a time when we forgot our “church clothes” and had to attend services in jeans and flannel shirts—camp clothes--and the cold reception we received.  Another time I was in a city far away from home for a scary surgery.  We remembered our church clothes, but it didn’t seem to make a bit of difference.  We walked in the front door, went down the middle aisle and sat two-thirds of the way down—Keith must be able to see faces in detail so he can lip-read.  We were at least 10 minutes early.  No one approached us, nor nodded, nor even looked our way.  Finally the woman in front of us heard Keith say, “I can’t believe no one has even greeted us,” and turned around to introduce herself.  After services we slowly made our way down the aisle surrounded shoulder to shoulder by the (still unwelcoming) crowd, stopped at a tract rack for a minute or two, and finally walked out the door before the preacher finally came out calling us to say hello.  It wasn’t like we didn’t give him plenty of time.  No one else even bothered.
            Contrast that to the time we entered a building thinking that we probably didn’t agree entirely with this group because of a few notices hanging on the wall, but were greeted effusively by every single member the minute they saw us.  We were even invited to lunch, while at the previous church I mentioned, living in a hotel between dangerous procedures, no one even asked if we needed any help.
            So when my recent study of faith came upon a passage in Titus about being “sound in the faith,” I decided to check the entire context and see what that actually meant.  Since I must be brief here, I hope you will get your Bible and work through it with me and see for yourself.
            First, the phrase applies to individuals, not a corporate body.  Titus 1:10-16 gives us a detailed and complete picture of someone who is not “sound.”  They are the ones the elders in verses 5-9 are supposed to “reprove sharply” so they may be “sound in the faith” v 13.  Look at those seven verses (10-16) and you will see a list that includes these, depending upon your version:  unruly, vain talkers, deceivers, false teachers, men defiled in mind and conscience, unbelievers (who obviously claim otherwise), those who are abominable, disobedient, and deny God by their works, being unfit for good works. 
            The context does not end just because the next line says, “Chapter 2.”  In that chapter Paul clearly defines what “sound in the faith” means, beginning unmistakably with “Speak the things that befit sound doctrine, that the older men…” and going straight into the way people should live.  Read through it.  Everything he tells the older men and women, the younger men and women, and the servants to do and to be, fit somewhere in that previous list (“un-sound”) as an opposite. 
            If people who are unruly are un-sound, then people who are temperate, sober-minded, and reverent in demeanor are sound.  If people who are defiled in mind and conscience are not sound, then people who are chaste, not enslaved to wine (or anything else), and not thieves are sound.  If people who deny God by their works and are even unfit for good works are not sound, then people who are kind, sound in love, and examples of good works are sound.  Go all the way through that second chapter and you can find a (opposite) match for everything in the first.
            Now let’s point out something important:  if being a false teacher makes you unsound, then being a teacher of good and having uncorrupt doctrine does indeed make you sound, but why do we act like that is all there is to it?  You can have a group of people who believe correctly right down the line but who are unkind, unloving, un-submissive, impatient, and who do nothing but sit on their pews on Sunday morning with no good works to their name and they are still not a “sound church!”  Not according to Paul. Nine out of the ten things on that “un-sound” list have nothing to do with doctrine—they are about the way each individual lives his life.
            I am reminded of Jesus’ scalding words to the Pharisees in Matthew 23:23:  Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith: but these you ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Yes, our doctrine must be sound, but doesn’t it mean anything to us that Paul spends far more time talking about how we live our lives every day? 
            Don't get me wrong.  The notes of the bugler do make a difference.  It wouldn't do at all if he played "Taps" when the general was calling for a "charge."  For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle? (1Cor 14:8).  But the bugle is not the weapon of choice for a battle.  If the church is made up of people, then a sound church must be made up of sound people who live sound lives.  That is the weightier matter of the law of Christ.
 
For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified: Romans 2:13.
 
Dene Ward

About twenty years ago, we were camping in a Georgia State Park, one of our favorites actually, private sites, modern bathhouses, beautiful scenery, and great hiking trails.  Ah yes, the hiking trails…
            We decided one day to do the big trail—up a mountain and back down, seven miles total.  So we cooked a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and coffee, and took off after cleaning up and securing everything against the elements and the wild animals, about ten in the morning.  We carried water and some snacks, and the park map.  I am the navigator in the family, and usually the only one with a decent sense of direction.  We expected to be back in time for an early supper, about four in the afternoon.  With time to build a cook fire, we would be eating by five, and ready for it. 
            We made the top of the mountain about one, took a few minutes to enjoy the view, eat an apple and a handful of peanuts, then started down the other side.  The grade was steep, and we were soon following a trail of switchbacks, but sure we were still on the right path because of the red blazes the park had so thoughtfully sprayed on the trees every so often, and because every turn matched the map.  Keith, the one who is always looking for an easier way, looked down the hill to our left and saw yet another switchback.  “So let’s just take the shortcut down,” he said. 
            Having grown up on the side of a mountain in the Ozarks, he is much surer footed than this flatlander, but he assured me that I could hold on to his shoulders and he would lead the way down safely, and possibly save us a couple hundred yards.  So I agreed and willingly followed.  We must have cut down through half a dozen switchbacks before the path finally leveled out. 
            We walked on, and came to a fork in the road that was not on the map.  Hmmm.  This time he trusted me and my sense of direction, and off we went toward what I knew was south, and thus had to be the right way.  A little further on there was another unmapped fork so we took the same direction.  And then another, and another.  Somehow this did not seem right, and about then I realized that I had not seen a red blaze in a long time.  About four-thirty we came to the end of the road—literally.  Beyond it lay a fifty foot drop to a creek running full and loud. 
            Obviously, we had missed something somewhere, but I knew we had not gone the wrong overall direction—we had just wound up on the wrong path.  We tried retracing our trail, but going at it backwards through the many forks we had taken, confused even me.  We were about resigned to spending the night in the woods.  I was exhausted, it was late, and getting colder by the minute.  The sweater I had taken off and tied around my waist due to the heat of exercise would not do me much good when the nighttime temperatures hit the 40s.  I was determined not to panic, though.  I figured the last thing Keith needed was a hysterical woman on his hands.  Tomorrow we would get out--somehow. 
            Finally, he told me to sit and wait while he checked another fork in the road.  I didn’t tell him that it scared me to death—with his lousy sense of direction it might easily be the last time I ever saw him.  But not ten minutes later he came running back.  “I found power lines,” he said.  “They have to lead somewhere.” 
            So we followed them, and about thirty minutes later came out on a gravel road.  We followed the lines further and came to a house.  Keith knocked on the door and explained our situation.  The man was on his way to work the night shift at a local factory and would take us back to camp, “about fifteen miles from here,” he added.  “You’re the second couple in the last month to come out of those woods lost.”
            We got back to camp at nearly seven, exhausted and relieved, and ready to eat, shower, and hit the sleeping bags.  The next morning we drove to the top of the mountain, then checked out the trail going down, careful to stay on it, watch for blazes, and look at the map.  We were sure the park was at fault.  But no, at the end of the third or fourth switchback the trail and blazes led straight ahead and down the other side of the mountain.  When we had left the trail and cut through those switchbacks to what looked like the same trail, we had missed that and had wound up on a mountain bike trail, as yet unfinished, unmapped, and “un-blazed” by the color-coded spray paint.  The map was correct; we just did not follow it.  At that point we were not ready for another seven mile hike, but the next year we went back to that park and followed the trail carefully the whole way.  We got back about four-thirty and never once got lost because we stayed on the trail and followed the map!
            This one is easy, isn’t it?  God has given us a map.  It does not matter what things may look like--stay on the trail; follow the map!  You may see a trail to the side that seems like the same one.  Don’t take a shortcut that leads you from what you know is right.  If it is the same trail, you will get there eventually.  If it is not, you may never find your way back.  Always look for the blazes that the faithful who went ahead of you painted for you to follow.  You may think you have a great sense of direction—but if you get off track, that won’t keep you from getting lost.  Or being lost, which is what we are all trying to avoid. 
            Not only has God given you a map, He is out there Himself looking for you.  Don’t be proud; take advantage of the offer and follow His lead.  You will always make it home, no matter how far off the trail you have gotten.  The Trailblazer knows the way.
 
I will seek that which was lost, and will bring back that which was driven away, and will bind that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick… For the Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost, Ezek. 34:16; Luke 19:10.
 
Dene Ward
 

A few years ago, everyone knew what happened on April 15, 1912, because they had seen the movie.  We don't do movies—a deaf husband cannot enjoy them—but even if we could have gone, I had no desire to see that one.  I already knew how it ended—the ship sank.  So missing Leonardo and Kate was no great loss to me.  But recently I discovered something about that event that did affect me profoundly.  On April 21, 1912, six days after the Titanic went down, the last body was pulled from the Atlantic Ocean by men on board the rescue ship MacKay-Bennett.  It was the body of a fair-haired little boy around two years of age.
            I had two fair-haired little boys, and two more now as grandsons, so I read on with my heart galloping.  The article, from 2011, was featured on nbcnews.com.  It took nearly 100 years to identify that baby boy, but with the help of DNA and some persistence, they finally did.  Sidney Leslie Godwin was 19 months old.  He had boarded the ship with both his parents and five brothers and sisters.  All of them perished.
            I have not stopped thinking of the last moments for those parents and those children.  Every mother I know would die for her children, and I imagine little Sidney's would have too.  Yet she died but could not save him, nor any of the others.  I know that when my first was born, I promptly began having nightmares about losing him, about the house catching on fire and me unable to get to him, about him becoming ill and me unable to cure him, about someone stealing him from his crib and running off with him, about every possible way to lose a child I had ever heard of.  So now I sit and wonder about little Sidney's last moments, and his poor mother's, who could do nothing to help.
            I imagine that is not too uncommon.  But as I look out on some parents I know and see the ways they are raising their children, not teaching them about God, not taking them to their Bible classes, allowing the entire family to miss the assembly of the saints for every little thing that comes along, overlooking the inappropriate clothing they must wear for the activities they want to be in, refusing to say no to television shows, movies, and video games that are unsuitable for a child of God, it seems obvious that few, if any, are afraid of their children losing their souls.
            We know that we made mistakes.  We have even heard about a few of them from our boys.  But I doubt they would deny that we taught them as much about God as we could, enough to make sure they knew it should be the most important part of their lives.  Many parents worry about their children making a good living, but frankly, the most important thing to us is that, as I write this, they both have their spiritual lives in order.  If not, I would be having those nightmares again, knowing they were lost and unable to "fix it" like Mamas are supposed to do. 
           We will probably die before they do, but if we were to die knowing they were not in a right relationship with their God, it would be a horrible death, no matter how easy it was physically.  That would be the greatest hurt they could ever do us.
           What about you and your parents?  Does your life break their hearts and leave them in agony?  And what about your children?  If you have not taught them about God, you might as well have thrown them out into the icy waters of the North Atlantic without a life preserver.  At least that horrible death would be quicker than what awaits you both.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments (Ps 103:17-18).
 
Dene Ward

Recently Keith’s sister came to visit and we took her to the Butterfly Rainforest at the Museum of Natural History at the University of Florida.  We have lived here since before the exhibit even opened and never managed to get there.  When we went in, we saw what we have been missing.
            In the first place you cannot go inside with anything that cannot be closed properly, which means I had to leave my purse behind—it has a snap across the top, but is not sealed with a zipper.  Then you enter one door and cannot open the second until the first door has closed.  When you leave, you go through the same process—through one door, wait, close the door, then through the second door—but with an added precaution:  you check each other over for hitchhikers.  The butterflies will land on you, especially, it seemed from our experience that day, if you have on bright colors or large floral prints.  They will also land on your bare head and arms.  You must walk the paths carefully so as not to trod upon one that has landed there.  You sit on benches only after inspecting them.  But mainly, you just look and look and look, up and over and around.  They are everywhere.
            The colors and patterns are breathtaking.  Scarlet and black, Halloween orange and black, an intricate black and white that looks for all the world like a tatted doily; olive and black, chartreuse and black, emerald green and aqua; pale blue, royal blue, teal and blue violet; solid brown, spotted brown, banded brown, and a brown design that looks like it belongs on the walls of ancient Aztec ruins—and that’s not the half of it.
          Many of these beauties were brought from other places as pupae, and as they hatch are let go every day while the visitors watch.  It was a wonderful couple of hours.  And after I got home I started wondering if there were any butterflies in the Bible.  Well, yes, in a way.
          First of all I found that back in the early days, the butterfly symbolized the resurrection of Jesus and later the resurrection of his saints.  That makes a certain amount of sense.  The caterpillar spins its pupa, which hangs there looking dead for a couple of weeks.  Then suddenly the adult emerges, alive again, or so it appears.
         But it seems to me that the better Biblical image comes from Romans 12:2:    Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.  Just as the caterpillar is transformed into something completely different, we should be too.  I am, in the words of 2 Cor 5:17, “a new creature.”  Those butterflies were beautiful, but when we walked the exhibits in the halls outside their “rainforest,” the pupa on display there were mottled gray-brown and just plain ugly.
          I looked up that word “transformed” and guess what the Greek word is?  Metamorphoo.  I would be surprised if you haven’t heard that in a sermon sometime in your life, but maybe you have never really thought about the change that insect makes from worm to butterfly.  Looking at those beautiful things that morning, and then seeing those ugly pupae hanging by the score really brought the message home to me.  I am not just to change a little bit; I am to change drastically.  That may be difficult for you to comprehend if you were “brought up in the church” as we are prone to say, and have never really done any “big bad sins” as we tend to define them.  Yet it is my obligation to find the things that need changing. 
          I may not read pornography, but I might become insensitive to the sin around me, especially when our culture deems it “appropriate” for television.  I may not steal, but my selfishness can rob others of any time or service they might need from me.  I may not commit idolatry, but I can become so celebrity-conscious that what those people say, do and wear becomes my model instead of Christ.  I may not murder, but I commit character assassination every time I call, text, or post unkind words about another.
          Those butterflies we saw that day were almost too pretty for this sin-sick, ugly world.  That’s what people should be thinking about us.  We are not like the world, and we don’t like the world.  There is a better place coming, a “Butterfly Rainforest” for all those who have transformed their lives to be like their Lord.  Don’t land on the coat of a passerby and allow yourself to be removed from that hope.
 
…put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and…be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and…put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness, Eph 4:22-24.
 
Dene Ward
 

This will be an incomplete review, but how do you review something that is basically a reference work, not something you, as an ordinary Christian, would sit down and read from cover to cover?  My son Nathan recommended this book and added that it is written by probably the most noted Biblical scholar the church has ever produced, a professor emeritus at Abilene Christian, Everett Ferguson.  Because of that, one does not have to be quite so fearful about false doctrines that might ensnare him.  (Except you should always beware, at least a little, no matter who wrote it.)
            Mr. Ferguson covers the political history, society, and culture of both the Greeks and the Romans from the time of Alexander through the first century and a little beyond.  Then he covers Judaism just as completely from the time of the return from Babylonian captivity.  The table of contents is nearly as detailed as an index, and it is easy to find what you need.
            For example, in a class I was teaching recently, a student asked about the "lost gospels."  This book covers all the apocryphal books in the Judaism section, not just those few included in the New Jerusalem (Catholic) Bible, and gives you a brief synopsis of each book, along with the evidence (or lack of) about its origins and canonicity.  (And by the way, those books are not lost—scholars have known about them for years, in some cases centuries.)  When you finish you have no doubt that these do not belong in anyone's Bible.
            Another week someone asked about Gnosticism.  I found an informative section on that sect.  For one thing I learned that Gnosticism was not simply a Christian heresy.  It was a pagan philosophy with many versions taught by many people for many years, including Plato.  Gradually it made its way into the early church toward the end of the first century.  It is impossible to list unequivocally, as we tend to do in our Bible classes, what "Gnostics" believe because there are so many types.  However, he does manage to give eight "Characteristic Features," and in those you can see the things John, especially, was fighting in his gospel and epistles.
            Of course this book is not necessary to understand how to please God and make your way to Heaven.  Only one book can do that and it needs no help.  However, the discussions here clearly point out the cultural "baggage" that first century Christians had to overcome, and studying it is a good reminder that we must do the same.  When I hear about Christians who believe the USA is "the kingdom of God," or who are so "rights oriented" that they have no idea what yielding to a brother even means, I know we need that reminder.  And learning what those ancient brethren were surrounded with on a daily basis can make us try harder to make a suitable application to ourselves.
            I have no doubt that this book will come in handy for years to come.  My husband will also use it, I am sure.  It might make a good gift for yours. 
          This is the third edition of Backgrounds of Early Christianity, expanded and updated.  It is published by Eerdmans.
 
Dene Ward